


Javert signed up for political extremists- he gets students instead

by Blackrider



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, Javert POV, Other, Pumpkin carving, aro/ace Javert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:16:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2526956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackrider/pseuds/Blackrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert goes undercover. He signed up for politically radical students who’re trying to overthrow the government. Not...students.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Javert signed up for political extremists- he gets students instead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blagdogs-tveiter-tot](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=blagdogs-tveiter-tot).



> this is a les mis trick or treat ficlet for blagdogs-tveiter-tot! :) I hope you enjoy it, I did try to include everything instead of focusing on one prompt. (And I was very curious what I'd do with Javert, so ;))

“Um. Listen. Erm.”

“What is it?”       

“You’re… older. No offense. But you’ve lived longer than most of us and I was just wondering if… if you could give me some advice?”

“What about?”

“…Romance?”

“No.”

“What?! Why not?”

“Ask Grantaire. They’ll wax poetic about it if you give them enough of that… thing they likes to call a drink.”

“Okay. Why can’t you tell me though?”

“I’ve never been interested enough to have any advice to give. Go to Grantaire.”

Javert watched as Marius slowly walked over to the bar, ordering Grantaire’s special drink and thought about his choices in life. Going undercover was usually not a bad one. However this time- this time, he should have just let someone else do it. Javert had signed up out of two reasons: 1) He’s been asked by his superior and 2) Jean Valjean had been sighted in Paris.

This is how he got himself assigned to Les Amis de l’ABC, as they called themselves, a group of university students who were suspected to be radical extremists, planning to literally overthrow the government.

Javert had expected it to be difficult to get into the group, seeing as how he’s obviously above the student-age, his hair thinning and becoming grey, his face full of lines. However, against his expectations, he’d been welcomed with open arms, and although one or two had been distrustful, after two more meetings in the Musain, he had been integrated into the group.

He had learned… a lot. In some cases more than he needed to know. Especially when he had sat down next to the drunken man (actually not a man but a person who didn’t identify with any gender in particular, Javert’s inner voice scolded) and listened to the things they uttered under their breath. Javert had almost laughed at some of them.

A lot of meetings were about the social construct of gender and sexuality, about feminism, sometimes war was touched upon, but it was mostly organizing demonstrations for awareness.

Javert took notes (this had surprised some, but he’d told them he liked rereading it to remember it better. In truth he had brought the notes to his handler).

This week in particular was geared towards bringing awareness to the ‘A’ in LGBTQAIP+ (a term Javert hadn’t even fully known when he’d joined and could now recite and explain to any imbecile in his sleep).

 _A_ as in Asexual, Aromantic, Agender.

For Javert personally, this was the most important letter in the acronym.

When he’d joined the group, he had gotten a full explanation of everything he didn’t know (or admit to not knowing) about gender and sexuality. He had realized that the term ‘aro-ace’ fit him like a perfect shoe and he had, against his will, almost cried.  Javert had often wondered why he didn’t feel anything like ‘romantic love’ or ‘sexual attraction’ in his life, and this group of lovesick idiots had been able to help him.

Javert hated being indebted to people. This was one of the reasons he felt very glad that he had literally nothing to report that could be even in the slightest be politically dangerous activity. (He wasn’t 100% happy about it, since his time felt wasted sitting around these people when he could be catching criminals.)

 

And this is how Javert came to be sat in the Musain, carving a pumpkin, with about fifteen students in the same room, watching “Nightmare Before Christmas”. He felt a little ridiculous.

Another thing Javert had found out over the last two months he had been undercover was that students are idiots- lovesick idiots at the worst, idiots who sometimes fall over in the process of stepping onto a table at the best.

He had witnessed how the democratically elected leader, Enjolras, wooed Grantaire into kissing him in the middle of a speech- they were shouting at each other standing toe to toe, noses almost touching anyway and at one point, Grantaire had simply leant over, grasped Enjolras’ jaw and kissed him. Javert had felt a strange sort of happiness for them, although he had found it peculiar how two people so opposing, with very different world views, could complement each other in the way Enjolras and Grantaire did.

When he had joined, Joly, Musichetta and Bossuet had already been in a relationship, however, it had taken Javert about three meetings to understand in what kind of relationship they stood to each other. It had included lots of explaining from Musichetta, with jokes thrown in by Joly and Bossuet, and Bossuet trying to stand up and the table clinging to him (or so he said from the floor).

Courfeyrac and Jehan had surprised Javert the most, since Courfeyrac was openly asexual and the one to explain while being asexual, one could still feel romantic love towards another person. They had walked into a meeting one day holding hands, both with big smiles and a content feeling about them.

“Dammit!” Javert shook his hand. It was bleeding. There was also a knife sticking out of it. This was what he got for thinking about Les Amis while handling a knife. “Can someone drive me to the hospital?” Javert asked into the round of merrily chatting group of students.

The laughter died down. More people looked at Javert, who was becoming slightly uncomfortable. Then Joly and Combeferre stood up, Combeferre with a phone in his hand, dialing, and Joly moved towards Javert.

“Have you been stabbed before? You’re calm,” Joly gently takes his hand into his and inspects the knife. It’s not pretty.

“Yes. Not very comfortable, but I’ll live.” Not shooting a gun anytime soon, but he’d have to stay undercover for another month anyway.

“I’ll get a bandage and something to- thanks Chetta,” his girlfriend had already gone to retrieve the first aid kit. Joly bandaged the wound as well as he could, putting pressure on it.

“Ambulance should be here in a few minutes,” Combeferre said, looking worried.

Javert smiled. “Thanks, Combeferre.”

Talking soon resumed as Joly walked outside with Javert, leaving the group inside (sitting in couples, Enjolras on Grantaire’s lap, not so much carving their pumpkins as making out, Jehan and Courfeyrac sitting close together, showing off their admirable pumpkin carving skills and Combeferre and Feuilly talking…probably about the movie).

Joly waited until the ambulance had arrived, telling the women what had happened and how he had proceeded. “See you, Javert.”

Javert stared at the grinning Joly as the doors closed. He hadn’t told them his name, obviously. They knew. Of course there had been no radical talk. They had made him. Instead of being outraged, Javert laughed. The women in the ambulance (and the guy driving) probably thought him mad. It didn’t matter to him.

He’d have to tell his superior that he’s been made, but let go lightly. And what kind of radical group lets a spy get away so easily?


End file.
